


Bites

by Seilann



Series: Emilalli Prompts [1]
Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Fluff, Hickeys, M/M, Shippy, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-10
Updated: 2016-01-10
Packaged: 2018-05-13 01:23:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5689210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seilann/pseuds/Seilann
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emil has some interesting marks on his neck, and of course it's everyone else's business. (Requested by a tumblr anon.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bites

“I’m just saying,” Reynir whined, “I think there’s like, bugs or something.”

Mikkel, crouched in the powdery snow, didn’t even look up from washing the breakfast dishes. “Mm-hmm. Well, I highly doubt it. The only bed-dwelling insects in the Silent World tend to cause total paralysis, though if you think—”

“I’m not the only one who’s been bitten.” Reynir flung an arm to one side, singling out their resident cleanser, who was busy fixing Lalli’s hair. “Emil’s had weird red marks _all_ over his neck the past few days.”

Mikkel’s arms froze elbows deep the now icy wash water. His eyes widened, though only for a moment. “Is that so?” he asked, closing them casually. “Well now. That’s something to investigate.”

 

Emil enjoyed smoothing Lalli’s hair. It wasn’t just something to do when they couldn’t get away with more; it was a calming action, a reminder to both of them to take time for each other, even as their work days grew longer and more intense. It was a way to reach out to each other without words, without the need for them. And it just felt nice.

Lately there had been other things that felt nice, too. Kisses. Hands under clothes. Teeth on skin. Lalli had been surprisingly forward with these things, and Emil half suspected the Finn just enjoyed seeing his reactions. As for when Emil tried to reciprocate, well, Lalli got overwhelmed easily. On the one hand, every little thing had him squirming. On the other, one touch too many and that was that — he’d push Emil away, gently but firmly, and there would be no more interaction of any sort until he’d calmed his senses.

As disappointing as that sometimes was, Emil happily obliged. After all, he never thought their relationship would come this far. How could he possibly complain?

At the moment, he really wanted to kiss Lalli, and would have made the attempt already if not for the additional company. The two of them stood against the side of the tank, Lalli’s back to the insignia of the Nordic Council and Emil’s to the place where Mikkel and Reynir were suspiciously engaged in conversation. Emil couldn’t bring himself to look back and see if they were talking about him. He suspected they were, but if he kept worrying about it, the moment would be ruined. He was sure he could sneak a quick kiss. It wasn’t like the others would be _staring_ or anything, even if they were gossiping…

Lalli’s eyes flashed over to the pair. Though Emil was sure Lalli could no more comprehend Icelandic than he could, the scout furrowed his brows.

“What is it?” Emil whispered.

Perhaps in answer, Lalli reached out and gently pulled the collar of Emil’s thermal away from his neck. His eyes fixed on something there.

“What?”

The scout sighed dramatically. Then he released the collar with a shrug, peeled himself off the side of the tank, and slinked back inside.

Emil tugged at his hair. “Thanks. That was very helpful.”

Moment ruined. Well, probably for the best. It could have been ruined in much more embarrassing ways if he’d gone through with that kiss. There would be more chances, anyway.

“Emil,” Mikkel called as he dropped a spoon into the top of a stack of bowls, “a word, please.”

Shit. Had he seen something?

Emil hadn’t even done anything!

He smoothed the frizz out of his hair, unconsciously tilting his chin back to try and appear in control. Each step that brought him closer to the Dane knotted his stomach a little more.

Reynir had disappeared by this point. Emil claimed the space that he’d occupied moments before and shoved his hands in his pockets. “Did you need me to do something?”

Mikkel shook the excess water out of a bowl before rubbing it with a cloth. “Oh, no. I can handle a few dishes. I was a little curious, however…”

_Shit shit shit what did he see?_

“Have you had any trouble with bedbugs recently?”

“B-Bedbugs?” Emil repeated in disbelief. He almost burst out laughing as the knot in his stomach untwisted. “Well, no. I haven’t noticed anything like that.”

“Are you sure? Reynir has been very concerned about you.”

“Reynir? Why?”

A half smile sneaked onto Mikkel’s face. “Oh, something about bite marks all over your neck.”

Shit.

SHIT.

“I… I… What… marks…”

“Well, as I haven’t yet seen them, I couldn’t say. However, if you would like me to take a look—”

“No nothat’sfine Idon’tneedyoutotakealook I’msureyou’reverybusy.”

Red. Emil was seeing red. Was that normal? And he had this weird flutter happening in his chest. Was he forgetting to breathe? He was forgetting to breathe. How on Earth did one go about inhaling, again?

The smirk on Mikkel’s face. Emil wanted to die.

“If you’re very certain,” the Dane said, turning back to his task.

Emil dashed for the tank without another word. “Lalli!” he called, flinging himself through the open door.

Tuuri, eyes barely peeping over a stack of books, nearly dropped the entire armful on his feet. “Oh! Emil, what’s wrong?”

“I — uh — Lalli. Looking for. Him.”

“I… think he just went to bed?”

“Thanks!” Emil tried to squeeze past her, but the books blocked his way and threatened to tip out of Tuuri’s arms. “Can I, uh, get by?”

Tuuri had a thoughtful look on her face. “Hey, Emil, is this about the bedbugs thing Reynir is going on about?”

“He told _you_ , too?!”

The thoughtful look transformed, her eyes narrowing, downturned lips curling up, and up some more, until Emil felt he was in the presence of a minor demon.

“Oh my god,” he said. He didn’t even believe in gods.

“Oh, yes.” Tuuri laughed. “I actually forced a confession out of Lalli a few weeks ago.”

This day. This day needed to end.

“I was considering whether to tell Reynir the truth or not, since he seems so worried. Oops—”

Her whole body tipped sideways as the books started sliding. Emil relieved her of the top few, then followed her to drop them on the desk in the middle section of the tank.

“You know,” he said, trying not to sound panicked or desperate or consumed by desire to fall into the deepest pit on Earth, “I’d really appreciate it if you _didn’t_ tell him—”

“TUURI!” Sigrun’s voice made the metal walls tremble.

“Oh dear.”

They ran to the sleeping quarters, where their ever dignified captain was holding a flustered, red-faced Reynir at arm’s length with a palm to his forehead.

“What in the name of viking wrath is this boy saying?”

Emil knew exactly what Reynir was saying. He didn’t need the flailing gestures in his direction to realize that he was doomed.

Tuuri said something in Icelandic. It sounded like she was trying to calm the redhead down.

“Well?” Sigrun asked.

“I-It’s nothing too important!” Tuuri explained. “He just got a bit confused.”

“This kid more or less just assaulted me, so I’d say he’s a bit more than confused.”

“He says he was trying to explain something, but he thought you didn’t understand, so he was just going to touch your neck to show you.”

“Touch my _neck_?” Sigrun released Reynir’s forehead to slip a hand into her collar. “What’s wrong with my neck?”

“Emil’s neck, rather,” Mikkel said, coming through the doorway.

Emil wondered if he could disappear into his coat like a turtle. Then he’d have no neck for all of them to fuss about.

Sigrun’s violet eyes turned on him. “Emil, what’s wrong with you?”

“What? Nothing!” He backed away. “Like Tuuri said, he’s just confused—”

Wide fingers peeled up his collar. Emil couldn’t move. Not even when Mikkel gestured Sigrun over to inspect whatever marks he had herself. He couldn’t even mentally curse his own stupidity in letting this happen.

“Those are the weirdest marks I’ve ever seen.” She leaned back and crossed her arms as Mikkel let the collar slip back into place. “Doesn’t look like a rash, though.”

“I have a few theories, myself,” Mikkel told her.

It was at that moment — of course it was, the last possible moment, as always — that Lalli’s gangly figure appeared from under Tuuri’s bunk. Sleepy and annoyed, he shouldered past Reynir and Tuuri, placed himself behind Emil, and wrapped his lanky arms around the cleanser’s shoulders possessively. Emil felt Lalli’s bony cheek press against his ear.

The others stared: Sigrun with her mouth turned down in shock; Tuuri in open-mouthed, starry-eyed excitement; Mikkel with a smug half-smile; and Reynir in utter incomprehension.

Could this really be happening right now?

Finally Sigrun leaned toward Tuuri. “Am I right in assuming that the cause of those marks is currently glaring at us?”

The skald nodded.

“Well, then!” She straightened up, lifted her hands in a shrugging gesture. “Mystery solved, nothing to worry about. Can we please get to looting some books now?”

 

That night, Reynir awoke to a sharp pain in his arm. Half asleep, he turned his head to look. Kitten teeth. Claws kneading into his skin as she tried to nurse.

_Oops_ , Reynir thought. _I guess it wasn’t bedbugs_.

Seconds later, the discovery dissipated into the void of sleep, never to be remembered.

**Author's Note:**

> This was super fun to write. Thanks, tumblr anon!
> 
> I'm slowly working through all the great prompts I received, but they will take time. So to everybody who submitted one, don't worry! :) It'll go up here eventually.


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